“You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place . . . Like you’ll not only miss the people you love, but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.”

These past two days have been very, very long. Not bad, but draining. Interviewing people for your own job is a bizarre thing.

Going over “transition” things at work. My boss accusing me of being “mopey” (I am) and me getting far more emotional than one should be in the workplace (“I’m really sad I’m not going to be working for you anymore,”  I said. “Me too,” was the reply). At least I haven’t cried. (Yet. I was close today)

Hearing my co-workers and bosses say the nicest things about me. Having this attorney from one of our outside firms call ME directly to wish me luck, ask for my contact info, and tell me that if I ever need a job, to call her.

Discussing the interviewees, and at least a dozen times, teased “Or, you know, you could stay” (My boss has only offered that ten times. Ok, maybe twenty). A battle not to confuse nostalgia with doubt (“One starts with “N”, one starts with “D” Did you already forget how to file?”) Almost breaking down, because I don’t know if I’ll be good at my new job, and it’s so comfortable here, and maybe I don’t want to leave.

A half a dozen projects landing in my lap, with the request to finish before I leave. My reaction, which is annoyance, followed by defiance (“what’s he going to do if I don’t finish it? Fire me?), and then resignation that of course I’m going to do it, because I’m me.

My favorite co-worker’s epiphany (“How did I not notice”). Momentary denial,  a Donna Moss reference, and then later, “Yeah, how did you not notice?!?”

Wondering if I’ll get around to organizing the files in the top drawer. Forgetting to remind people of last minute things because there is so much on my mind, and not remembering until I’m at home tossing thoughts at the computer screen.

Already missing, and looking at it all with far too much nostalgia (it’s just a freaking job) because I am the most maudlin person on the planet. Sad, simply, because for all the lovely comments about how I’m irreplaceable (oh please. It’s just a job) this is far more irreplaceable.

A common theme in my blogging seems to be “I started a bunch of posts this week and didn’t finish any of them.” The topic and theme has been the same, but emotions have run gamut from angst to anxiety to excitement.

Anyway.

I don’t want to write about the mundane details of moving and preparing to move, and the stress that surrounds it. I already spend enough headspace on it.

For months I’ve been thinking that when I got to this place, I’d have so much to say. To the point where I even planned out what I was going to say. I had my Facebook status, annoucing this moment, picked out ages ago. There are songs I’ve been listening to for months, just waiting for them to be relevant. (Among them: Already Gone (Kelly Clarkson), Time of My Life (David Cook), I’m Movin’ On (Rascal Flatts), Better Things (Dar Williams). I am a planner, in perhaps the worst sense of the word.

And now, I have very little to say. I’m winding things down at work, and I have a proper amount of sadness about leaving, and I have thank you notes to write once I’m done for good. I’m trying not to confuse nostalgia with doubt.  My new job promises to be a step in the right direction, but I’m not particularly excited about it. It will be a job, and while I hate this phrase “it is what it is.” I can’t wait to move in with Keithers and decorate our apartment, but I hate the moving process possibly more than anything in the world.

What I keep repeating to myself is that this will all be okay in a month. If I can just make it through the next month without a breakdown, IT WILL BE OK. Of course, this “month” keeps getting extended, and by now, I should really say “If I can just make it through these next two weeks,” but I’ll split the difference and call it three. In three weeks, I will be in DC, will have been at my new job a week, and will, logistics willing, at least have a mattress.

Until then, I try to organize my desk, get instructions ready for whatever poor temp fills my place, and try not to have too many maudlin moments about how this job saved my life, and how I will miss the gratitude I associate with it.

Worrying does not change an outcome. That is a lesson I have learned over and over again in the past 16 months. I have tried to remind myself of it, to quell the fret that inevitably bubbles up. So I’ll hold off delving into details. Even the worst case scenarios here are nothing to waste head space over.

I am currently sitting in the reception area of my office, waiting for the UPS guy to show up. I’m babysitting the stack of boxes, containing the Important Books for Important Quarterly Meeting, that can’t be left unattended.

I just realized I haven’t eaten anything today.  It was a fairly frentic day, and yesterday was busy too, and I have so much to do tomorrow, and I’m tired, and whine.

I’ve been at my current job for almost two years, and there are still days when I think exactly like this. Even more than two years since being summarily dismissed from the Job-That-Wasn’t, I still, as I confessed earlier this week, have nightmares about it. I still have my moments when I forget that my bosses and co-workers are NOT like the people at the job-that-wasn’t. Earlier this week, I was on the verge of panicking, and was fully cognizant of the fact that there was no reason to panic, but for some reason my brain still anticipates the reaction I would have received at that awful place.

I know I’ve talked about it 1000 times in this space (but it’s my space, and I’ll repeat myself if I want to) but I still don’t know that I will be able to properly convey how much this job has truly been among the things that saved my life since I came back to Jersey in shame two years ago. July 17, 2008, actually. That was the date I knew I was coming back, and that I was coming back for awhile.  Six weeks later I was very lucky to start this job. This job made me feel capable of something again, even when it was just putting together a bunch of meeting materials. The lack of questions I was asked is why March 18, 2009 and everything after were not nearly as horrible as they could have been.

This job saved my life.

Joe’s been in California, apartment hunting, so I haven’t been harassing him with my usual rounds of cover letters and questions. He emailed last night to agree to feed my cat next week (even though the cat is a racist) and I can’t wait to tell him about My Plan. I would not even be capable of thinking about making this plan if it were not for Joe being my sounding board and support system. He said recently, that he never would have imagined the weird friendship we’ve developed, where we hang out and talk endlessly about careers and existential crises (mostly mine) and dating. I’m sure there’s a sector of the population who would call it fate that I ran into him one morning at the bus stop in O-town, almost three years ago now. That, and several other bus rides, is how he came to be the person who drove me to work the week I was stuck and who reads constant drafts of my schizo cover letters.

Joe has saved my life.

Joe is also the reason that Brent and I talk now, constantly exchange emails. We’ll never be the same as we used to, but we shouldn’t. He was still there at my one year in March, because he understood why it was such a big deal. They all did.

My old friends have saved my life.

I had actual work to do this morning; a change of pace, as summer here has been dead. Last summer, I exchanged countless emails and was distracted by dozens of gchats with people from Message-Board-of-Note. David, I hardly think of as being from there anymore, such a good friend he was to me when I really needed it. I still have the text message he sent me after that awful, awful seven days that started with the ride to Chicago and ended with my in the hospital: “You have yourself to get better for you jackass. What else would you need?”

David has saved my life.

The rest, some who I’ve met, some who I haven’t, made me feel as if I was part of something other than just my head. From these internet strangers, I’ve gotten career advice, CDs in the mail, and, with Ellie, countless hours of ridiculous conversation about Hugh Laurie, kittens, and petty-judgmental-thoughts. They made me laugh, they agreed that O-L-B was a jerk, they looked after me via text message, and once, at thirteen days, when I fretted how little time that was, Timothy replied “No, do you know how many HOURS that is? Right now, 13 days is awesome.”

The Message-Board-of-Note saved my life.

And then there’s me, who bemoaned the fact that 2010 is half over, and that I’ve gotten nowhere. That, on a Friday afternoon, I am sitting barefooted and cross-legged in front of my computer at the same job that saved my life, unmotivated to finished the three job applications that are 3/4^th done, and also, already ready to give up on dating because it isn’t that much fun, and the distraction it provides isn’t worth the opportunity cost. I am twenty seven years old, very much single, and still answering phones, among my many other responsibilities.

But I am 190 or so days into 2010, whereas two years ago, I didn’t even know 190 hours. I’m pretty pragmatic (some days, pessimistic), still filled with regrets for the could haves, would haves, and should haves, and still could afford to lose at least another five pounds.

But there are days that I hope. There are days that I am able imagine that I will one day have a life that is not this. I still can’t picture myself with someone else, and I can’t imagine a successful career, and really, there’s nothing tangible in my vision of My Plan. But there’s just this vague sense that I can do something else, and that one day, I will have a life again, that things will get better, because they already are. I am quite far away from the depths of Depression and darkness and utter stupidity that made my life a living hell for most of 2007 and 2008.

And I got myself here. I proved my worth and I got myself this job. And then, after many false starts, I rallied the troops and I finally got myself the help I needed, that came in ways I never expected it could. And that’s why, on an ordinary Friday afternoon, I’m sitting here writing this sappy, over the top, melodramatic entry, because I didn’t really realize what happened.

Because somehow, when I wasn’t paying attention, I managed something I didn’t know I was attempting.

I saved my life.

Noon always comes very quickly. I look at the clock and can’t believe how fast the morning has flown. This is usually canceled out by the drag of the afternoon though.

I think my hours of staring at the computer have given my eyestrain. Or maybe that’s my allergies.

Maybe things are picking up in the job market world. I don’t know if it’s a short lived burst of hiring but a lot of places in my area of interest seem to be hiring. Not for anything I’m qualified for, but it’s a good general sign, right? Or maybe I’m just desperate to find something to be optimistic about.

There is a minor disaster brewing at work, but I am surprisingly not getting worked up about it. My instinct is to swoop in and fix things, perform miracles, etc…but what’s the point? I’ve done that dozens of times now for no reward or personal benefit.  I certainly haven’t seen a raise or even a change in job title. And I know I’m not the only one experiencing this frustration. Not just at my company; it’s everywhere. I’ve seen some scattered articles (and I’m too lazy to find them) about how the “recession mindset” means companies expect more from their employees (because they need them to do the job of 3 people after layoffs) without reward (because they’re holding them hostage; there are no other jobs out there). In addition, they aren’t training their employees to promote because there’s nowhere to promote them to.

The recession can’t last forever, so I’m curious to see how this will affect overall workplace trends, etc.

I am talking to a boy on gchat. This is a sad state of affairs.

I am waiting for brownies to finish baking, and ignoring my mother, who is bitching about losing her date book. I shouldn’t be annoyed by her bitching, because I lose important stuff myself ALL THE TIME. But it’s still irritating me, because my thought process is “save stuff in your email, like a normal person!” When what I really mean is “do things my way.”

Moving on.

I’ve been thinking of submitting something to Drop of Ink, but of course I’m letting myself get overwhelmed by the subject matter. No matter what I write or submit on love or loss, it’s certainly not the first or final word on the subject. Yet when I’m writing something, or editing something that’s going to be read by others, I feel the need to make myself seem more profound then I really am. Or at least, write something epic.

The boys and I went to Trivia Night again on Thursday, and pulled off another win. There’s another team there that goes every single week, that told us they always win…except when we’re there.

Little Things From Trivia Night That Make Me Happy

1) The category was movies, and Brent says dismissively “Well, if it’s something from 1994-1997, then Rachel will know it.” (I protested that I also know a lot of movies from 2002-2004) And then when the question came up it was “In Speed, what speed can the bus not drop below.” (I have seen Speed approximately 19,000 times, AND it’s been on TV frequently lately, and Brent and I quote it constantly)

2) Arguing with the boys about what we’re Neil Armstrong’s first words when landing on the moon. (They went with “One” from the famous “One small step for man,” while I argued for “Houston” based on my many viewings of Apollo 13 where they view the moon landing in the opening scene, and you know LOGIC. I was right, they were wrong, but we only missed out on a point.

3) Girly questions on Tom Hanks movies and Dove

4) The final question being an obscure geography question (although with Sporcle games, I don’t think it was THAT hard). What US state capital has the smallest population?

We got it right, other team got it wrong, we won 2 Yankee tickets, which I let the boys have, and now they have to buy me something pretty.

I do not want to think about work this weekend, as I have still not sorted files, submitted expense reports, or a number of sundry tasks I should have done yesterday. The work will still be there on Tuesday, and I will, as usual get it done before noon. Knowing this, I should not let myself have an anxiety attack on Monday night.

The brownies are almost done. And then I have to go see if I can find a white polo shirt.

The combination of my daily Wellbutrin with a Claritan D to ward off the allergy attacks from the pollen (exacerbated, no doubt, by dusty files) PLUS my morning cup of coffee must have been too much of a jolt for my poor-addled mind to handle.

I’ve been unfocused and nervous and have all this anxiety that has no where to go. I tried channeling it into cover letters, but anxiety is the opposite of arrogance, so that was a lost cause.

Important Documents haven’t gotten to Important People (thanks UPS!), I haven’t started packing for the office move, (I’ve been ARCHIVING, there is a difference) and after a brief burst of attempted gym rattery, I’ve not been in a month. Now, it’s a popular notion that exercise is a good means to combat stress/anxiety. However, my anxiety is such that I can’t even stay still long enough to do a worthwhile amount of time on the treadmill. (Yes, I know I wouldn’t be “staying still” on the treadmill.  It’s the struggle to just do ONE task that’s driving me mad.)

This job is making me bitchy. I was just really impatient with  the UPS lady on the phone. There are so many piles and papers surrounding my desk that I don’t even know where to begin. I know the sooner I get done with these things the sooner I can have my sanity back, but it’s one of those paradox-like things and I just lost my train of though.

At this point, I should really just go home, but I’m paranoid about driving because my windshield was replaced and the guy was like “you have to wait an hour” (that was 90 minutes ago) and I don’t know what I think I’m achieving by waiting longer, especially since I’m going to go drive on Route 80 and risk getting my windshield re-smashed by another pesky rock.

I also like to write run on sentences.

Yesterday sucked. I think it was probably my worst day ever at this job, to the point where I was in tears.I rarely cry at things that aren’t movies, but the trifecta of stress, frustration, and general overwhelmed-ness, built up, and for a few minutes, I cracked. Yesterday, I definitely felt that my job sucked, and I was just angry about the situation.

And then I pull back, and there is STILL this reluctance to complain, because it’s not as bad as The-Job-That-Wasn’t. I was sort of relating this to a co-worker last week, that no matter how upset I get about things at work, it was so bad at The-Job-That-Wasn’t, that I really can’t let myself get too bereft. She likened it to an abusive relationship; (“at least this job doesn’t hit me!”) which is overstating the case quite a bit, but accurate in a black-humor way.

It’s not just the job that’s getting to me. My undergrad is having a 5 year reunion in June, and there’s a facebook group for it, and I stupidly looked through pictures people are posting and got depressed. I knew maybe one person in any of the pictures, but they’re all having typical collegiate fun and reminiscing and blah blah blah I-Had-A-Lousy-College-Experience. Some people are traumatized by their high school experiences and you just want to tell them to get over it. Some days, I’m still not over the fact that I missed out on the college experience. I don’t have friends from college, I don’t have pictures from college, I don’t have memories from college. It was 3.5 years I got through as quickly as I could. Most of the time I am over this, and have made my peace with it.

Occasionally, the resentment and anger at myself creeps up and then I just start thinking about how I wish I could have done it all differently, and how different my life could be right now (different how, I’m not sure) and really, it’s just messy self-pity that really shouldn’t be indulged.

Also, “Welcome to Whereever You Are” came up on iPod shuffle on my way to work and it made me teary. (“You’re caught between just who you are/and who you want to be”) Clearly the stress is getting to me.

Two major screw-ups on the part of Other People have us on edge here at work. The first screw-up COULD be no big deal, but due to the second BIG screw-up, it may very well wind up being A Deal.

Anyway, with keeping things in the vaguest terms, lest I find myself dooced, I will say that this randon clerk in another department screwed up; she didn’t read a request form and sent something to the wrong person. This is bad on several levels.

On one hand I am livid. How could she screw up like this? The form was VERY clear. Why was this error not caught? This is a fairly standard procedure as well; why does she not know what she’s doing? Why hasn’t she been trained?

On the other hand, I cringed, because it’s the sort of thing that I used to do at The-Job-That-Wasn’t. The girl is probably wondering what the big deal is – she’s three or four degrees removed from the situation, and she doesn’t really understand the ramifications of her careless actions. She probably doesn’t “get” the looks that her co-workers/supervisors are exchanging.  She’s undoubtably nodded along and at least pretended to understand the gravity of the situation when her supervisor explains why they have to make a big deal out of it.  Or maybe she does and she’s just as panicked.

Either way, I used to be her. I used to have my major errors picked out by someone else when it was already too late. I used to have the moments of panick and absolute helpelessness, knowing that I had screwed up and that someone else had to fix my mistake.

I really don’t know if this situation will work itself out. And of course, it’s not a matter or life or death. It’s just very expensive and a lot of work and time went into this, so for it fall apart over her little error is really annoying to say the very least.

And not to say I don’t ever make mistakes, because I absolutely do.

But I’m glad it wasn’t me today.

I am stupid tired. I haven’t been sleeping well this week. Even last night, when I was quite tired, I just could not get comfortable and was awake until 2-something.  I have been a bit moody this week. And yesterday, I resorted to theatrics in order to get my way with a Customer Support Person (tactic: wait until you get a male on the phone. Pretend to cry and talk about how this is for your boss, and you screwed it up and he’s going to be MAD and please, isn’t there a way we could…?).

It worked and I was pleased with myself and that was probably the only fun thing I did all day.

This weekend, there is the county meeting of the liberty-oriented political group. I have been looking forward to this, but right now I am so tired that I can’t even think about it.  I will definitely go and it will definitely good to get out and also be around smart, motivated people who are interested in working towards similiar ends. Oh, the meeting will be 95% male. I’ve joked before that one of the reasons I’m a libertarian is for the guys. I’m only half kidding. Maybe only even a quarter kidding. I mean, I was a libertarian first, and then I found out that almost the entire movement is male.

Evidence of my sleepiness: I opened a new browser window to do…something. In the seconds it took to open I forgot what I’d opened it for.  Oh yeah; bank balance! My bonus for the 2 half of 2009 was deposited. It’s a teeny-tiny bonus (and no raise, even though I am now doing the job of 3 people) but I suppose I should insert the requisite line about being grateful that there’s any bonus in this economy. Etc.

Now I’m trying to decide if I should make an extra car payment or funnel it towards the just opened “Moving Fund.” Emergency Fund is doing quite well and will be completely funded when I get my tax refund. But I am indecisive as to what to do next. I need a solid fund for moving (apartment deposit, first month/last month rent, sundry expenses) and a car fund (insurance hike, repairs) but I’m also wondering about opening a Roth IRA. I already have a 401(k) through work, that I contribute to and my employer matches.

This is really too much thought to give to such a small amount of money, but it is unexpected money (I didn’t think the company was giving bonuses this year) and so I am pondering. Six months ago this probably wouldn’t have struck me, but I’ve gotten really into reading Personal Finance blogs.

I can go home in about 4.5 hours. It took me way longer than it should have to calculate that I can go home in 4.5 hours. I need a nap.

.

I’m busy playing “hurry up and wait” with some things at work that are making me feel as if I don’t have it together and I’m not on top of things. I hate that. It is also causing me to be weirdly procrastinate-y with both stuff here and job applications stuff. Did I mention I’m tired and had nightmares about Jason Voorhees (of Friday the 13th fame) last night?

At least it’s Friday. I will try to restrain from whining/fretting about the laundry I have to do and the errands I must run and the gym I AM GOING TO GO TO DAMNIT (I have Milly now, as reinforcement). Of course, by informing you of that (alleged) restrain, I have in fact whined/fretted.

I want to see the movie Valentine’s Day, because it is supposed to be similar to Love, Actually. No one will see it with me, and I rarely go to the movie anyway, (In fact, the last thing I saw in the theaters was the Friday the 13th remake that came out last February – perhaps that’s why I have Jason Voorhees on the brain) but maybe I’ll just go by myself this weekend. Mm, movie popcorn with delicious artificial butter.

Speaking of movies, my Younger-Wiser-Sibling (who clearly has too much time on his hands. Oh to have the musicians lifestyle) started bombarding me with text messages/emails about the movie Armaggedon. Yes, the Bruce Willis movie about the giant asteroid. (I love that movie!) I have posted it below for my own entertainment. Perhaps, you too will find it funny (unlikely). More likely, you just think it is lunacy and don’t get why I am cracking up over it. If, however, it makes sense to you AND you think it’s funny, than you, are perhaps my soulmate/new best friend.

Deep Thoughts on Armaggedon (The Movie) – by Rachel’s Younger-Wiser-Sibling

I was watching armageddon and it struck me how the president of the USA was giving a speech to the entire world, and he said “I’m not the President, or the leader of a major country, but a citizen of the world”, and it was and odd thing to say given how amero-centric the response to the catastrophe was then I started thinking about how that blithe ignorance of the unilateral v. multinational split in american politics could only happen pre-9/11.

Also, the shuttles are named the Freedom and Independence — as if the asteroid is an evil threat to america — as opposed to something that is going to blow up the entire world.

It’s sort of like when Liv Tyler starts crying when they think that both shuttles blew up and everything failed — not because that means the world (her life and everyone else’s life included) is going to end in 12 hours but because that means Ben Affleck and Bruce Willis are dead.

For instance, what would Obama think about the way we responded to the asteroid, without even consulting other countries or asking the UN if it would be okay to use a nuke? I also assume that we were the only country who knew about it (aside from Russia, of course, but only because they were helping with refueling from the space station), and that they took great care to make sure that no other countries found out about that. I cannot imagine the EU being very happy to learn that the American government is hiding apocolyptic secrets from the rest of the world on the grounds that it ‘knows better’ than everyone else and all that

Also, I forgot to mention that the whole film was probably co-funded by the NASA lobby and the nuclear research/arms lobby.

Let’s see.

The fretting began around 6:00 PM on Thursday. Now, before I get into the rest of this entry, I must emphasize that my anxiety levels IN GENERAL have been at a lifetime low since I got my started getting my head together about a year ago. However, there are certain things that just Bring the Fret, and this particular work situation was/is one of them.

Basically, the story was that we need Signed Documents from four Important People in hand by 9:00 AM on Monday. Documents that, as of Friday, were still not in final form. My boss was understandably concerned, and also tired, since you know, he was the one who wrote the actual things. I am merely She Who Handles Logistics.

Friday morning began with computer malfunctions, schedules changes for Important People, and predictions of a snow-pocalypse. The day was a long game of Hurry Up and Wait, punctuated with intense periods of carefully choreographing how to get the Documents in the hands of Important People and get scanned copies of the Signed Documents back to us.

Let’s just say I went without lunch, made very good friends with some random guy at a company in California (and I have no idea what his title is. He definitely was not just some random admin. I could have been harassing someone Important for all I know.)

Anyway, we had 2 Signed Documents back, and were expecting the 3rd and I was pretty proud of myself for choreographing it. The whole thing was kind of awesome, in a pathetic way. nd then the document we were expecting back late Friday never came. Enter Plan B. And Plan C.

And it turns out all the back-up Plans were for naught, because Important Person does not plan on returning the signed pages today. It must be nice to be that important. If the overtime I put in waiting for documents does not get approved I am going to flip out. Especially since I went on a Fret induced shopping trip this weekend.

The weekend was also way too short, and I didn’t go to the gym, and I don’t care about the Super Bowl and the Snow-pocalypse never came and I canceled a Saturday morning appointment for nothing.

Arg…Last week went by fairly quickly, and I’m afraid this week will be the opposite.

I’ll share all the exciting details about that which brought The Fret on Monday. Because by then it will likely be a case of “all’s well that ends well” (I hope).

For now, I will just say:

…that even though I was at work until 8:00 PM on Friday night, waiting for Important Documents that didn’t show up…

…and even though I checked my work email about 100x today…

…and even though I got woken up by a work related phone call at an absurdly early hour…

…and even though, the past few weeks (really, since the holidays) work has been filled with crankiness…

This situation has made me once again absurdly grateful that it is taking place at my Current Job and not The-Job-That-Wasn’t.

Were the same situation playing out at The-Job-That-Wasn’t, well, first of all, I wouldn’t know how to handle it, because I wouldn’t have been given any information in the first place – I would have been expected to just do it all myself. But if this was happening at The-Job-That-Wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to eat or sleep this weekend, and my Former-Important-Boss definitely would NOT have been able to see any humor in the situation (because seriously? It’s Pieces of Paper that have to be signed by Important People. And we’re driving ourselves CRAZY over it. I mean, obviously there are reasons why this has to be done, but it’s not like life or death).

Instead, after being woken up at an absurdly early hour, I had coffee and did some reading. And checked my email. And then I went out for lunch and shopping and singing in my car. And tonight I broke out the Buffy DVDs (shut up) and also talked to Keithers. And yes, I checked my email about 100 times.

But I’m not afraid to walk into work on Monday morning and I won’t have to spend half the day with my head down, hiding my tears or terrified facial expressions. (Former-Important-Boss made me cry several times a week and towards the end all the stress and worry and horribleness had just built up and built up and it didn’t take much to set me off anyway.)

So although it seems strange to find gratitude in a ridiculous work situation, it’s there. Because I am capable of getting Important Documents signed, I’m having a decent weekend, and my boss isn’t going to make me cry on Monday morning.

And somehow, that never gets old.

My pre-graduate school job was a (very) basic admin position. Technically, I was the receptionist, but as a reward for being the most well-read receptionist in NYC, I was given loads of extra responsibilities. And with this, of course, came no rewards and a fair share of ridiculousity. Whenever Smarmy (as I secretly called the department head) would make an unfair request or ridiculous demand, I would boil with anger. Because it wasn’t fair.

Of course, even at my most rageful moments, I recognized that I had it pretty good. But bitching about your boss is practically a requirement, especially of being a young 20-something in NYC. So anyway, I definitely did more than my fair share of complaining to my co-workers, all of whom were friends and who were happy to have a drink after work and complain about their own lot at the organization.

But then in March I found out I got into UChicago, and so it didn’t (or shouldn’t have) matter(ed) as much. I would be leaving in September (Smarmy did not know this). Still, my emotional reaction was not tempered by this knowledge.

This summer, a seemingly minor, but fairly major change was implemented at work. I was really upset. A couple weeks later I started the application process for the Libertarian process, and since I was over the stomach-sickening anxiety of the first few weeks of my new responsibility (it involves phones. I hate anwering phones. I think it should be an ADA recognized condition) I was able to forget it.

Now the Libertarian Fellowship is not a possibility, and I’m stuck here, and I’m still stuck answering this phone, and I know this is really no big deal. And that’s really as much details about the situation as I should go into, because it’s stupid to blog about work.

But the emotional reaction is the same as it was to Smarmy, and this time, I don’t even have an escape.  I’m overly tired (I think) and it’s upsetting me more than it should.               

I have started a few entries in the past two days about how I am tired/groggy/cranky/still haven’t done laundry. I am hesitant (or lazy) about writing about/posting such things, because they are boring, whiny, and unattractive. The last one goes back to the fact that the old habit of writing for a specific audience (read: ex-boyfriends or love interests who you want to give the appearence of togetherness/happiness/confidence to), which is unattractive in and of itself.

Work is busy.

This upcoming weekend, I somehow have to motivate myself to go to the gym (newly joined, uber cheap), return the quilt I bought online, and return some stuff at Borders. None of that should be at all difficult, but I am in such stasis that such errands seem like Herculian tasks.

Apparently, I am also incapable of writing anything that is not a cliche.

I keep thinking that at least it’s Wednesday, and after the dreaded Wednesday night meeting, it’s all smooth sailing from here (because that is how weeks usually go) but this week is going to get worse before it gets better, and then it all starts again Monday and it will be equally, if not more icky.

I fully intend to do my laundry tonight, which will at least end my bitching on that one.

Everyone’s “It’s the end of the year/looking back/looking forward” posts are forcing me to think in terms of “What do I want out of 2010.” September still feels like the beginning of the year, but then so does January, in entirely different ways.

I want to write this entry, that I actually started yesterday and didn’t have even a minute to look at today. It was an insane day at work. Insane. I’m covering for someone who is out, and then I have tons of my own stuff to do because it’s the end of the year – lots of i’s to be dotted and t’s to be crossed kind of things. Tomorrow will be couriering pages for signature all over the NY Metro Area. Two days before X-Mas. Yeah, that’s going to be fun.

However, when work is insane like this, and the phone won’t stop ringing, and my desk is an absolute mess, those are actually the days that help me feel the best about my job. Because it doesn’t make me want to crawl under my desk and hide – I can manage everything. My ability to simply handle things still surprises me sometimes, even all these months later. More than months – it’s been over a year now. I’m glad I don’t get tired of feeling capable.

November needs to end, so I can stop writing about the first thing that comes into my head, and actually have a chance to write something decent.

I’ve been up for almost two hours, but I’m still groggy from the Benadryll, probably, even though I only took one. I don’t know how my body can handle a super powerful anti-anxiety drug that knocks me the hell out (I don’t take it every night) but can’t recover from Benadryll.

Writing about work on a blog that could be discovered is a surefire way to get yourself in trouble, so I will just say that it was a trying week and yesterday was a bad afternoon. I know where its coming from – everyone is dealing with unreasonable demands and ridiculous deadlines. It’s not going to get any better anytime soon though, so it doesn’t seem worth delving into.

I’ve given myself an assignment to get caught up on general foreign policy news this weekend, because my knowledge is general and out dated. On one hand – I work full time, and while I don’t have much else going on right now, the Libertarian Fellowship people don’t know that, so I think it should be understandable that I don’t have the same level of knowledge about current events as someone who works in the think tank field. On the other, logic is hardly ever a factor in these things, so I better study up.

I really hate having to say “the war on terror” when I talk about my interests, because everyone is sick of the war on terror. People were sick of the war on terror two and a half years ago when I was writing my thesis. I didn’t even want to GO there, but Carl Schmitt, that rapscallion, he made it impossible not to. And I think that my work, and the work that I want to do is valid, and relevant, and hell, even important, but using the phrase “war on terror” seems to cheapen it. It seems dated. But I don’t know what other name to give to the general, overall U.S. strategy/foreign policy stance(s) in the post-September 11th era (another reference that I am loathe to make. I don’t think the event should have changed out policies like it did, but that’s another rant altogether.)

My cat is curled up at the end of my bed, fast asleep. He seems to have the right idea.

Work got busy the end of last week. Quarterly reports and such. A co-worker and I  were about equally disgruntled and loopy, so we laughed over incredibly stupid things for most of Friday.

I managed to do laundry this weekend, and get rid of some junk as part of my continued attempts to not be such a pack rat. This is fairly impossible – I am a 3rd generation pack rat, and my parents attic is filled with boxes of my stuff. My nostalgia will not let me throw anything out, although I bet I wouldn’t miss it if I actually did. But, it’s in the attic, so it’s more trouble than it’s worth to drag boxes down a ladder.

The phone interview is tomorrow. I’m not nervous about the actual interview; my biggest worry is what to tell my boss(es) about why I have to take a phone call that will last an indeterminable amount of time at 11am.

Still waiting for news, obviously, and the longer I don’t hear the less optimistic I am. There is no logic that I could introduce to the equation that would make me feel any better/more positive about this. It is not a rational thought process.

I am irritable. Truly, madly, deeply.

First, the ATM is still not working. Logic should dictate that I simply go to another ATM, but the whole “I can’t drive” thing sort of puts a damper on my freedom, even the freedom to merely search out an ATM.

Secondly, some new person in A/P is just inventing these new procedures/rules and totally screwing up my invoice processing. This should be a very, very simple task from start to finish, but there are constantly like, 87 new people involved, asking questions and making things complicated.

It’s also raining, so the bottom of my jeans are wet. And my crazy carpool lady cannot drive on Friday (after not driving yesterday) and she is going on and on about her dental issues and it’s like “Shut up lady, it’s 8:00 am, get over your teeth and drive the car.” And I could work overtime on Thursday due to a major quarterly project, but probably can’t do it because of driving situation.

There are four more weeks of this nonsense, but that’s if and only if the bureaucracy of the State of New Jersey has worked itself out correctly, and that is a big “If.”

And I have meetings I have to go to tonight and tomorrow night, and I woke up dreading the one tonight (and that’s the lesser of two evils one). I HATE, HATE, HATE the Wednesday one, to the point where walking out of there at 10:05 PM is the best part of my week because it means I don’t have to go back for another week. And since I’ve skipped the Tuesday one the past two weeks, I REALLY have to go, and it’s somehow harder to force myself to these things after an absence.

I know I say I just want to know about the phone interview one way or another (and I know all of you are entirely sick of hearing about this, but so is everyone else in my real life) but I’m going to be crushed if it’s a “no.” I’m going to be even more crushed if come Friday, I don’t hear anything because, as I mentioned yesterday, I won’t be able to stop myself from hoping about the off chance that I wound up in the wrong application pool. But seriously, if my application was so bad that I don’t even warrant a phone interview? Forget the 8% acceptance rate – I’m going to be crushed.

So when you combine this with the little irritating things, you have a Rachel who is not quite fit for human contact. And of course this is the week that I have to be a happy little worker bee at work because its quarterly report time!